


Two Truths and a Lie

by ineffablenerd



Series: Wilde Week 2020 [7]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: A Wilde Week 2020 (Rusty Quill Gaming), Angst, M/M, Masks, Truths lies and omissions, Two Truths and A Lie, WE DID IT FOLKS, Wilde Week Day 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27659410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffablenerd/pseuds/ineffablenerd
Summary: Wilde barely ever lies. He doesn't need to.Why lie when you could say things that are technically true?Why lie when you could spin a loose web of words and let the other come to wrong conclusions on their own?On an airship he finds himself trapped in his element.
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Series: Wilde Week 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018164
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49
Collections: A Wilde Week 2020





	Two Truths and a Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7 - “The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”
> 
> Truth | Lies | Omissions

Wilde barely ever lies. He doesn't need to.  
Why lie when you could say things that are _technically_ true?  
Why lie when you could spin a loose web of words and let the other come to wrong conclusions on their own?

It is a skill that has served him well, first in his life as a journalist then in his life as an agent.

To twist and strum the truth like an instrument.  
To dance around half truths and biased information without ever stepping foot on a lie.  
That is where he excels.

It came with a price.

It didn't seem high at the time. Was there anyone _worthy_ of knowing _Oscar Wilde_? Really knowing him?  
Was it not enough to have them love what ever he wanted to show them? To have them love the masks he fitted for them, perfectly tailored to never slip away?

Bosie had been closest to unravelling the layers. But Wilde had only been proven right by him.

When it had come down to it, Wilde had taken the cracked masks and run, cementing them back together and swearing to never let them down and be proven the fool ever again.

* * *

A curse cracks one of the masks open once more.  
A young woman pries open a piece with a knife and a pun.  
A goblin sweeps away another piece, and locks his tools and disguises away under magic cuffs.

A dwarf at the end of the world works away at them for months without ever meaning to. Every meal brought up, every stern look and comment about sleep another hairline fracture in a collage of masks that are based on nothing anymore.

It is no use. The face that might have been behind them has become part of the disguise a long time ago. If the dwarf ever gets through the layers, what will he find? Who will look back and will he be enough? The risk of finding out is higher than the reward of being known. How can it not.

He gets too close. Way too close to revealing himself before they're shaken from their routine by friends long lost and a new mission and he gets to shroud himself in being Oscar Wilde once more.

* * *

On an airship he finds himself trapped in his element.

Trapped with people who think they know who he is, playing a game of truths and lies.

"Who defines what a truth is." he lets the words drip from his lips in a lazy smile, he had to rework it with the scar, but he had time to practice. The groans around the room are exactly as he plans them.

"I'm not much for philosophy" Azu's honest voice replies.

"I’ve never considered myself a philosopher. At best a scientist of the written word..."

Hamid makes an impatient noise.

"Truth the first." he knows what he's doing.

Hamid protests at the choice of words. It's supposed to be a secret which is truth and which is the lie.

 _Isn't it always_ , he doesn't say.

"Well then. First _point_ : I had genuine feelings for Bertie when he was around." He closes his eyes and revels in the disbelieving looks.

'Oh that _has_ to be the lie.' They know him so well. Oscar Wilde doesn't have feelings. Oscar Wilde kisses and definitely tells. Oscar Wilde writes scathing articles after one night stands and flirted his way out of trouble. What they don't know could fill a book or ten. They don't know of yearning looks and keeping yourself from melting into platonic touches like butter. They don't know so many things.

"Second point: I was cripplingly shy as a child and took to wearing disguises to avoid my peers" He flashes another confident grin.

Oh how he loves to make them think he was born like this. Outrageous and colourful. Smart and beautiful. Rich and _English_. Like all his charm and wit is anything more than a sharade. Fireworks in the Sky, "Wilde is Fine" and they believe him because what else would he be.

"Third point: I bloody love Harrison Campbell novels."

More disbelief. Laughter from Azu. A distraught noise from Hamid. His skills well used.

He never said he read them. He never said it had anything to do with the actual books, rather than who was reading them. If it might be about the sounds of small gasps and quiet chuckling in the safehouse's total darkness that did not hinder the seagreen eyes at all. He never said any of that. He just lets them believe.

The heated discussion washes over him. All he has to do is put on a knowing smile.

They make a decision.

Hamid is so sure of himself.

They make their guess.

Wilde smiles.

And tells a lie.

**Author's Note:**

> It's the mortifying ordeal of being known innit.


End file.
